


All I Need (is your hand in mine)

by Lolistar92



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Action, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BAMF Dick Grayson, Biting, Bottom Dick Grayson, Dirty Talk, Domspace, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Discovery, Leather Kink, M/M, Manhandling, Men Crying, Mild S&M, Mission Fic, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Strength Kink, Subspace, Top Jason Todd, Topspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 04:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15453507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolistar92/pseuds/Lolistar92
Summary: “Move, or I’ll make you.”There is a deadly seriousness in Jason’s voice, and Dick’s heart is aching. He can’t help but see the dichotomy between the man he loves and the man that his lover can be.“Don’t do this, Hood,” Dick pleads.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



> Hello, hello!
> 
> First, I dearly hope my prompter enjoys this fic. It started off as smut and then grew itself a plot. Gosh only knows what I was thinking! 
> 
> All my thanks and love to my wonderful beta reader, Abbyromana!!! Words cannot do enough justice for all my appreciation for your time, patience and effort! 
> 
> With that, please enjoy!

 

They’re back from a relatively quiet night of patrol. Jason always takes Crime Alley and this time Dick managed to grab a route that gets close enough to it by the end of the night.

It’s a relatively eventless night, which Dick is thankful for in mind but not in body. He stops a mugging, a car theft, drunk teens bent on vandalism, and manages to find time to install a surveillance camera on a suspicious looking warehouse he’s been meaning to check out, but that’s it. Nothing adrenaline inducing.

Dick feels guilty for those thoughts, but he can’t help them. He’s been fighting crime since before puberty hit. He’s more or less addicted to the thrill of the chase, so to speak.

Luckily, he knows Jason also had a slow night, well, you know, for Crime Alley.

When he sneaks into Jason’s apartment at the first break of dawn, he barely gets a foot in before he’s yanked into the apartment and slammed against a wall.

He collides with an ‘oof’ and a huge, warm body is instantly on him. He arches instinctively, knowing that body well. Sometimes, he’ll react with a struggle, making Jason work for every inch he wants to take. But he can tell with the way Jason is pushing all 250 lbs of pure muscle against him that that’s not what Jason wants tonight.

He can definitely get on board with this.

“Hi, Jaybird,” Dick purrs into Jason’s ear, moaning when Jason gets his hands around Dick’s thighs and lifts.

He wraps his legs instinctively around Jason, ducking down and meeting Jason’s ferocious kiss with all he’s got. It’s messy, Jason diving straight into the heat of Dick’s mouth with Dick’s gasp, his tongue dominating Dick’s mouth in a parody of how they’ll undoubtedly fuck tonight. It makes him tingle with too sudden sensitivity, arousal helplessly jumpstarting.

He breaks away with sharp gasp when Jason shifts his hold to grab Dick’s ass. Jason squeezes so hard that Dick can feel the pressure from the protective layer of his suit.

“Slow night?” He grins as if he doesn’t know. His hips gyrate against Jason’s abs; it’s completely pointless, since they’re both still in their armour and protective cups.  

“Dick, shut up,” Jason says, annoyed.  

Dick peels off his mask to show Jason his eye roll. “Telling me to shut up when in literally two minutes you’re gonna be telling me to cry for you,” he mocks, ripping Jason’s own eye mask off. He meets Jason’s heated glare with a wink.

Just to frustrate him further, Dick taps his finger on Jason’s nose gently, “Put me down, or we’re gonna have to fuck in our suits.”

Which is definitely not pleasant, Dick can say from experience.

Jason doesn’t put him down so much as he drops him, pushing Dick away with a firm hand as he divests himself of the rest of his armour. Dick feels a bit of regret that Jason’s already put away his leather jacket; he loves to peel it off his lover.

Dick stays still long enough to watch Jason do that arm cross thing he does, lifting his under armor body shirt over his head. His chest and abs flex in a way that always gets Dick’s mouth watering.

Jason looks up just as he’s about to unbutton his pants, and Dick sends him a wink, turning around and deactivating his suit.

He knows Jason’s eyes are on him. It makes him feel heady as he tugs the small zipper at the collar of his suit and drags it down, revealing his back inch by inch. He takes  his time.

He doesn’t even get to his lower back when he’s slammed face first into the wall. Jason’s teeth bite down on the exposed skin of his shoulder. The pain in his cheek is waylaid by the sharp pain in his shoulder, and Dick cries out, bucking. Jason only presses his body in further, retracting his teeth to gently suck at the pulsating wound. It makes Dick heady with arousal.

He squirms when Jason yanks the zipper down to his tailbone. Jason doesn’t bother to remove the parted fabric before shoving his hands through the material to snake around his torso. Immediately, he gropes Dick’s pecs cruelly.

Dick hisses at the painful squeeze, wriggling helplessly as Jason digs his fingers into muscle and kneads. There is something a bit off about his touch, but Dick immediately forgets about it when Jason simultaneously pinches both of his nipples. Dick cries out, arms spasming as Jason increases the pressure steadily. Dick writhes on the thigh between his legs. Then, just as soon as the pressure began, it’s gone.

He pants against the wall, chest throbbing. Jason steps more into his space until Dick’s length of body is flush with the wall. His hands migrate above his head, instinctively. He moans as Jason bites his exposed nape. The tips of Jason’s fingers wracking down Dick’s pecs and teasingly avoiding his aching nipples.

“Jay-” Dick protests when Jason’s hands trail down to his ribs. He squeezes them painfully while he moves his thigh in between Dick’s legs, teasingly adding pressure only to take it away when Dick grinds down on it. Jason takes one hand back to finish unzipping the layer of fabric, stopping just at the top of Dick’s ass. His hand slips from the zipper to thumb at the barely exposed crack, but not going deep enough to touch where Dick desperately wants him to touch.

God, they haven’t even done a proper round of foreplay, and Dick is already hard in his suit.

“Jay, please,” he whimpers as hips undulating against the wall. It’s not like it hurts. The protective cup makes it so Dick can’t feel anything. He can’t say the same for his face though, his cheek probably already bruising at the force at which Jason holds him there.

“You fucking started this, you cock tease,” Jason hisses as he scrapes his teeth violently down Dick’s nape and down the length of his spine. It has him arching back with a cry. His hands finally come down to _push_ against the wall and get Jason off him.

So he maybe have forgot to mention he’s spent most of the night whispering dirty promises over Jason’s private comm line due to fits of boredom. Can you really blame him though? There is nothing better than a riled up Jason.

Jason steps back easily, and Dick glares at him, knowing he only managed that because Jason allowed it. He takes a few steps up his own to put more space between them and practically rips his own suit off him. He still makes a show of it, arching his chest when he drags his arms out of the suit, bending over to get the legs.

For a moment, it looks like Jason is going to press him back against the wall, but as soon as he gets an unobstructed view of Dick’s ass, the threat is gone.  

Once he’s properly naked, Jason is on him again. His arms wrap around Dick tightly, mouth pressing down as violently as it ever has, forcing Dick’s head back, and making his upper body dip at the sheer force.

Well, it looks like he knows what kind of fuck he’s in for.

“I want to try something,” Jason says after he breaks off, mouth shiny and plump. Dick’s dazed enough that it takes a second for the words to register.

“Shoot,” he says. His hands grip Jason’s hair and tug him down for another kiss.

“I wanna,” He pauses, sucking on Dick’s lips.

“...wanna fuck you…” Again, he suckles on Dick’s reddening lips.

“...where…” Another deep kiss, Jason biting at Dick’s lower lip lip when Dick's own tongue tries to meet Jason's teasing one.

“...we’re standing.”

Jason leans his head back, looking down at Dick for his reaction. As it always is when Dick is caught up in Jason’s force, he takes a moment to let Jason’s request sink in.

When it does, he knows his surprise must show, “Without a wall?”

Jason smirks, “Think I can’t hold you up?”

Fuck, Jason always looks so dangerous when he smirks like that. Dick licks his lips; his throat is suddenly dry.

His hands trail from Jason’s head to his neck, down the slope of his shoulders, and then, down his biceps.

Jason is built like a brick house. He’s pure muscle and force, and Dick has witnessed his strength dozens of times. He’s probably stronger than Bruce—okay, he’s not going down that trail of thought.

“I may be pretty, but I’m not exactly as light as a dame,” Dick says lightly, watching Jason’s reaction.

He rolls his eyes, “You’ll be crying like one when I’m done with you.”

Dick bites his throbbing bottom lip. He isn’t going to lie. The thought of it is heady, sending arousal pulsing through him.

“What about grip? We’re gonna get sweaty.”

Jason gives him another smirk, a hand casually going up to his mouth. Dick has to lick his lips, trying to get his bearings back as he stares at the black leather gloves Jason still has on. He hadn’t noticed in the heat of the moment, but he’s definitely noticing now.

Suddenly, two hands are coming down on Dick’s ass with a loud smack, making him cry out involuntarily at the stinging impact. His hips jerk into Jason’s. He’s practically on his toes to escape the sudden pain, and his arms go up to wrap around Jason’s shoulders.

Before he knows what’s happen, Jason has a hold on his ass cheeks and is lifting him up.

In seconds, Dick has his legs wrapped around Jason’s waist, instinctively. He’s been hoisted in a hold more secure than he thought it would be.

His cock is dripping.

He is so aroused that he doesn’t even bother to chastise Jason, diving in for another kiss. He is keenly aware that there is nothing but air and Jason’s warm flesh surrounding him.

His ass pulses with the impact of Jason’s smack, and Jason’s grip on each cheek is bruising. The leather of his gloves is warm to the touch. Dick has the sudden, heady realization that Jason’s going to prep him with those gloves on.

His blood pulses harder in want.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” Dick murmurs urgently against Jason’s mouth. The longer he’s up here the more aroused he’s getting. He can’t stop grinding his groin into Jason’s abs, and even though the pressure is unsatisfactory, he feels like he’s walking that thin tightrope of arousal and anticipation he only ever gets with Jason.

“It’s got you that hot, huh?” Jason cows triumphantly, fingertips digging into the flesh of Dick’s ass predatorily, forcing his cheeks apart and exposing his hole and taint to the air around him. The leather sticks firm to his thin skin, stretching it and causing a flare of pain that has Dick panting even harder.

Jason’s hands are fucking huge. Dick has always known that, but right now, he feels it keenly as both of Jason’s middle fingers dip into Dick’s ass to tease at the rim of his hole.

He twitches violently at the feeling, dropping his head into Jason’s shoulder and tensing to fight against the need to gyrate back and demand Jason slip into him.

“Y-you need -” he stutters against Jason’s ear, only to shut up when he realizes that he’s being shifted.

Jason is holding him in one arm.

He moans.

“Lube,” Jason husks, “I know, Goldilocks.”

Dick’s heart is pounding, arousal surging through his veins.

“Oh my god,” he whimpers.

He can’t help the pathetic noise he makes when Jason starts to move, leading them towards the junk drawer Jason has by the couch.

“Can I go without a condom?”

“Yes,” Dick moans, “yes, yes, cum in me.” He could probably lean back enough to get a look on Jason’s face, but he feels locked in place. He burrows his head deeper into the crook of his arm where it’s wrapped around Jason’s neck, when he hears the snick of the lube jar opening.

It’s messy. That much is clear as Jason shuffles around with a growl, trying to do this one handed. It doesn’t matter much, because a minute later, two slick, gloved fingers are probing at Dick. That gets him to come out of the burrow he’s made. His spine arches as he cries out when he’s breached.

“Fuck,” Jason gasps, taking a step forward to compensate for the displaced weight. He doesn’t drop Dick though and his cock rubs against Dick’s groin, “Stop squirming or I might end up braining you.”

Dick shakes his head, his arousal clogging his thoughts. He is unable to think of anything but the pressing heft of Jason’s fingers as he parts Dick’s insides. He’s just brute forcing his way in. There is very little finesse, and Dick’s entrance pathetically struggles with the girth of Jason’s two fingers so suddenly.

But Dick doesn’t care. The flares of pain have him grinding harder into Jason, struggling between the need to escape and grind back. He wants to focus on the feel of leather inside him, but he can’t differentiate much with the incredible pressure and ache of being forced to spread open.

With his arms and legs locked, Dick comes to the heady realization he can’t do much but just _take_ it.

“J-Jay,” Dick whimpers, fast encroaching that headspace where he can’t find words. It’s disturbing how easily Jason can get him there.

Jason scissors his fingers apart, withdrawing a bit only to thrust in hard. He is forcing Dick’s body up in a way that has him crying out. The squelching sound of lube is embarrassingly loud, louder than it’s ever been before, and Dick feels a flush of humiliation rush through him when Jason does it again and again.

“Yeah, Dickie?” Jason answers, his voice smug.

Dick doesn’t care about that right now, doesn’t care how much Jason is going to lord this over him later. He can’t stop grinding his hips down, focusing on the fierce burn and pressure on the invading fingers.

When Dick doesn’t say anything, Jason coos, “Cat got your tongue, birdie?”

Dick isn’t that far gone yet, so he bites down violently on the juncture of Jason’s shoulder and neck in retaliation.

“Fuck!” Jason jerks, shoulders hunching up quick enough that Dick has to move his face away unless he wants Jason’s skull to crush his own.

He uses the momentum to get a good look at Jason’s face, smiling viciously at Jason’s angry frown. It quickly transforms into a blank face just as Jason withdraws his fingers. The smile slips off Dick’s own face. His hole throbs at the sudden emptiness. He barely has one second to think of if he needs to apologize or not before there is an unrelenting force pushing against his rim again.

He shakes his head when he realizes Jason’s back with three fingers, “I c-can’t, Jay,” he whimpers.

He curls back into Jason’s shoulders, because he knows that protesting doesn’t deter Jason at all, and sure enough the pressure builds until Jason forces his ring finger in with his other two fingers. The buttery leather and slick lube does most of the job, letting Jason sink in despite his tight insides.

Dick arches as much as he can, exhaling into a heaving sigh of pain and pleasure. It falls more on the pain side than pleasure, but for him, it works all the same anyway. He shakes in Jason’s hold, overwhelmed as Jason takes what he wants, stretching Dick out almost clinically.

“If I touch your sweet spot you’re gonna blow aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Jason croons in a fake sweet voice, fingers teasingly curling, and barely, he brushes against Dick’s prostate.

Dick moans helplessly. His hips jut down instinctively to get more pressure on that spot, but Jason withdraws his fingers in sync with Dick’s movements, knowing his lover’s body all too well. Dick’s cock drags helplessly between their stomachs and Dick lets out an airy sob.

“Well?” Jason prompts. There’s a mean edge to his voice. He slows down his pace until his fingers are circling Dick’s insides rather than thrusting, making Dick tremble all the more.

Dick nods, half forgetting the question but wanting Jason to start again. He wants Jason to fuck him with his fingers like he means it. God, Jason isn’t even shaking at Dick’s weight, and that thought just has his blood boiling anew.

He tilts his head to blow air into Jason’s ear, panting against it. Jason’s ears are sensitive and sure enough Jason’s fingers twitch inside him.

“Please, Jay,” Dick moans huskily in the tone Jason loves, “make me cum.”

He follows up by taking Jason’s lobe between his teeth, biting down gently, then backing away to teasingly lick it, breathily throwing in another, “Please.”

He doesn’t expect it when Jason picks up his pace, not in incremental speed but with an exhaling breath. His fingers withdraw right to the beginning of Dick’s rim before Jason rams into him with more force than Dick thought possible. He’s fucking him with intent now.

His mouth drops open in shock, even as his body locks in intense pleasure as Jason homes in on his prostate.

“J-Jay,” Dick chokes out in protest as overwhelming pleasure ratchets up higher and higher, Jason brutalizing his insides with a single minded purpose now.

Dick writhes trying to get away from the unrelenting pressure, but Jason just presses him harder to his body and Dick can’t get away, can’t brace himself against anything.

His voice is getting louder and louder. He can’t stop his moans, can’t stop the way his body gets tenser. His mind is supplying filthy observations of how impersonal Jason’s fingers feel inside him, how he can’t see Jason’s face, how he is just being held there and made to _take_ it.

It’s different. The pleasure is too intense, and Dick can’t turn those thoughts off. He’s climbing higher and higher, faster than he ever has before, and Jason isn’t stopping at all.

He can’t even make a sound of warning before his climaxes, almost violently, jack hammering in Jason’s hold before arching away. His cock splutters against Jason’s abs, cumming in a ribbon before he knows it.

The blood is pounding in his ears as he comes down. His muscles untense in a way that has Jason shifting instinctively, fingers coming out of Dick to hold him in two arms, just as Dick’s limp legs unwrap themselves. He has just enough presence of mind to keep his arms up, but he tips back anyway, Jason holding him firm enough that he’s still held up off the ground.

Jason looks incredulously at him.

“Did you just come from that?” Jason’s voice is tight. His dick slips in between the space of Dick’s groin and Jason’s abs to rest against Dick’s still hard cock.

He’s too dazed to answer; his body feels too hot. He feels like he’s molten liquid, but he’s still burning inside. He can feel the relentless pulsing of his abused hole and clenches down. He whimpers at the emptiness.

He nods at Jason’s question, looking straight into his eyes as he begs softly, “More, please.”  

Jason makes a noise of pure sex. His hips jump forward to grind against Dick’s overly sensitive cock, causing him to cry out.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jason pants urgently against Dick’s mouth.

He only realizes they’re moving when Jason’s cock bumps insistently at his own.

They’re in the bedroom in a flash, and disappointment slices through Dick’s post-orgasmic haze when he’s dropped on the bed.

It doesn’t last long, because Jason flips him over, stomach down, and hauls Dick’s bottom half onto his lap as he sinks his cock into Dick.

Dick’s heart is in his throat, but he still manages a howl at the burning stretch. His mind is overwhelmed as Jason immediately starts going hard, thrusting short and sweet in a way that manages to rub against his over sensitive prostate.

Dick screams, pain and pleasure blending together. He instinctively tries to get away, but Jason’s grip on his hips is utterly bruising. He fucks into Dick as if he’s nothing more than a cock sleeve, only purpose is to catch Jason’s cum.

Dick’s eyes roll back at the thought, mouth dropping open as he is helpless to do anything else but moan at the intensity. His untouched cock bobs in the air, confused at the devastating stimulation.

“Jay,” Dick whimpers, body starting to float.

Jason grunts, shifting them so his arms go from Dick’s hips to his waist, his pace slowing down. Dick moans in soft protest, but he is quieted quickly when Jason lays the length of his body over Dick’s, pressingly him fully to the bed.

He makes a sound similar to a sob when his aching cock finally gets some friction; desperately, he tried to find some semblance of control over himself to listen to Jason’s voice.

“You always fall so fast, Dickie,” Jason croons into his ear, tone mean, “you just need a good dicking to shut you up, isn’t that right?”

Undeterred by the position, Jason resumes his thrusting, breathing heavily into Dick’s ear and almost letting him block out his own desperate cries as Jason fucks him deeper.

He writhes against the bed as Jason takes him, tears freely flowing at the over sensitivity of it.

“That’s it, Pretty Bird,” Jason moans into his ear, “take me in deep. My cock’s the only thing holding you down, isn’t it, Sweetheart?”  

Dick feels like his strings have been cut, the molten lava in the pit of his stomach erupting again and Dick feels his cock pulse into the bedsheets, cumming a second time.

Jason groans into his ear, “Yes, that’s it, Dickie.”

He goes harder even as Dick goes limp, letting Jason use his body. He floats even as his body is rattled, away from his screaming nerves and into the sounds of Jason’s pleasure. He wants it to last forever.

With a loud groan, Jason cums inside him. He grinds in deep as he spills. His arms are clenching so tight around Dick’s middle that he thinks his ribs might crack. It’s enough for Dick, the knowledge that Jason will never let him go.

When Jason goes limp on top of him, Dick feels like he is being rewarded.

They lie like that for a moment, Jason’s lips pressing lazy kisses onto whatever part of Dick’s skin he can reach.

When dark tinges around the edge of Dick’s vision, Jason finally takes his weight off, slipping out of Dick. At the same time, his lungs can get proper air back into them.

Jason doesn’t go far, knowing his touch is the only thing keeping Dick grounded right now. He can hear the sound of Jason reaching for their aftercare supplies in the drawer and just lets himself feel, trusting Jason to take care of him.

His entire body aches. The muscles in his leg periodically spasm. His nipples throb. His rim is still burning. All the muscles inside of him pulse with angry waves. He feels wetness seeping out of him, feeling so open and exposed.

He loves it.

Jason’s bare finger suddenly touches the rim of his entrance, lovingly tracing over it as Dick’s breath hitches.

“Next time,” Jason whisper, bending down to press a kiss against Dick’s right ass cheek, “I don’t care if you cum. I’ll keep you held up on my dick and use you like that, until you come again or pass out. I promise.”

Dick can’t do anything but mewl his consent.

_


	2. Chapter 2

Jason can’t make good on his promise right away.

The surveillance camera Dick set up hits a jackpot, recording Penguin’s men moving in large crate shipments that reveal pounds of drugs.

It’s takes days of vigorous preparation and cooperation with the GPD before they’re ready for the bust.

Red Hood invites himself into the case when it becomes apparent they are taking too long; the first of the shipments is already being dealt out in Crime Alley.

So that’s how they find themselves paired together the night of the bust. Bruce and Jason have finally reached some sort of truce, but Batman and Red Hood still can’t work together. So it falls to Dick to keep him in line, not that he minds. Fighting alongside Red Hood always provides the best type of thrill, watching Jason turn into a beast of a fighting machine.

“Clear,” Jason calls, having taken point.

It’s not often Dick will let Jason take the lead, but the fact is that Jason knows these streets like the back of his own hand, better than even Bruce.

Dick doesn’t give an affirmation but follows the path Jason took stealthily. He sees Jason in his line of vision and notices the moment that he stiffens, halting.

He doesn’t give Dick a signal, so Dick continues, following until he is near where Jason is hiding behind the legs of an old Gotham water tower and that affords the best look down into the windows of the warehouse they’re infiltrating.

Jason lifts a hand, signaling for no noise. Quietly, he passes the night vision binoculars over to Dick.

He can barely suppress a gasp in time.

Those weren’t drugs; those were _children_.

From his vantage point, Dick can see three steel cages, with two children huddled together in each. A total of six children that are visible to his eye, but Dick can’t discount the possibility of there being more. Their sight line is obscured by a large steel beam that looks like it is literally hanging by a thread, blocking everything on the right side.

His heart begins to race, and he chances a look over to Jason’s completely still form.

_Oh no._

He wants to open his mouth to speak, but he has also seen the reason why Jason signaled for no noise. There are small microphone-type gadgets plastered to the roof of the warehouse, just a few meters from where Jason and Dick are standing. He doesn’t know how much the receivers may be picking up. Whether or not they’d caught the mostly silent footsteps of both of them; he wasn’t going to chance it.

But he needs to talk to Jason, _now._

He can tell Jason isn’t looking at him. The tension in his body winds tighter and tighter with each moment. So he takes the chance to nudge Jason. Just a quick tap. He’s learned not to grab or hold Jason over the years, not when he’s like this.

His heartbeat picks up when Jason ignores him.

 _No, no_.

“Don’t,” Dick hisses as low as he can and still have it resonate. It’s quiet, quieter than the average ear can pick up but it still runs the risk of being heard by technology.

But Dick can’t make that his priority right now.

Jason still doesn’t acknowledge him, but abruptly, he twitches. His hand goes over to lay on his gun, the only one that has real bullets.

Dread pools in Dick’s stomach.

He decides to fuck it, grabbing Jason’s arm and dragging him backwards in one quick motion.

Jason grunts. Dick’s shoulder strains as Jason immediately moves to disable Dick, but he is quick to get out of the hold, switching to grab Jason by the lapels of his leather jacket and tugging fiercely until they are at least 20 meters away. It’s still too close but Jason’s logic is clearly starting to lose the war to his emotions.

“You can’t, Jason,” Dick says as soon as Jason begins to struggle for real. He only gets a split second to berate himself over the name slip, but he couldn't help it. This was more about Jason than it was the Red Hood. 

They’ve moved over a building, but his Bat ingrained paranoia still thinks it isn’t far enough. But any farther, he risks Jason just knocking him unconscious and going for the warehouse anyway.

Jason finally turns to look at him and his red hood is impassive and cold at the same time, sending a shiver through Dick, “They have kids. In. Cages.”

Dick nods quickly, “I know, Hood. I saw. But you can’t go in there, guns a-blazing. This isn’t about morality. Those are kids; they’re not going to react any better to you going in there and slaughtering people in front of them. Please, Hood. We need to regroup with another plan.”

He knows immediately as he says it that Jason isn’t going to take it. The only reason he agreed to this plan in the first place was because they all agreed, or in Bruce’s case, hadn’t actively disagreed, to blow the place up. They’ve learned the hard way that turning over large quantities of drugs to the GPD isn’t the best idea.

Jason doesn’t say or do anything for a moment, before inclining his head just slightly.

Dick feels a momentary wash of relief before Jason says, “Go and grab RR. If you’re fast enough there might be some left you can save.”

_No._

Jason hasn’t actively killed anyone in nearly two years. The only time he had gotten close was exactly a situation like now, where kids were involved. But last time, they knew what to expect, they knew they were going after traffickers. They had the entire team on stand-by and between himself, Batgirl and Oracle they managed to keep Jason’s bloodlust at bay.

But now it’s just him.

He reacts before he’s even thought it through. His hand going up, fingers pointed, aiming for the pressure point on Jason’s neck that will render him unconscious.

Sometimes, Dick swears Jason came back with supernatural abilities, because the second Robin reacts in the hair's breath of a second that Dick goes to attack. Jason is dodging the strike and grabbing Dick’s arm at the same time.

But Dick isn’t as naïve as he was two years ago. Jason grabs his arm to twist, he rolls with the motion, using the blind spot Jason created to jab the syringe he pulled out when he started this attack into Jason’s thigh.

Everything goes still for a moment when Jason recognizes the pain, dropping Dick’s arm immediately and ripping away from Dick. He is backing away even as he stumbles. Dick only manages to compress half of the sedatives before Jason reacted but it's enough.

He can’t see Jason’s expression, but he can tell from his body language how betrayed he feels. Dick’s heart sinks even as Jason drops to his knees, losing his equilibrium. He rushes to catch Jason, ignoring the feeble attempts Jason makes in trying to get away.

Neither of them speak, but on Dick’s part it's because he’s at a loss for words. There is no way Jason is going to forgive this. But, Dick thinks, as he lowers Jason to the ground behind the safety of the roof’s shed, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he let Jason go back to his old habits and risk losing the family he just regained.

He knows Jason isn’t unconscious, but there is no way he can get up and follow Dick.

“I’m sorry,” Dick whispers remorsefully, gut churning when Jason uses what little strength he has left to turn away from Dick.

Dick ignores his own hurt, finding his steely focus and turns back to the warehouse. He takes out his batons, lighting them up. He won’t kill them, but he’s sure as fuck not gonna go easy on them.

_

It’s clear that he and Jason didn’t set off any warning bells for the goons, because Dick has an easy time infiltrating the warehouse. But that’s about as easy as it gets.

Perched on the rafters, he counts sixteen men. There is a blind spot to his southeast, where piles of crates of been stacked, but Dick reasons that there probably isn’t anyone hiding there. It’s more men than they accounted for, another error. Strategically, Dick knows he should retreat.

But he thinks about the rigid line of Jason’s shoulders. The tightly coiled forearms reaching for his guns. The feeble twitch to turn his head away from Dick.

So, he takes a deep breath and assesses.

Oracle clearly doesn’t know about this development, so it means one of the others must be having a hard time right now and needs her focus. That also means that this development has only recently come into fruition.

With a second look, Dick quickly starts to see a pattern on half of the men. His eyes rove over to the men that are stationed closest to the children, noticing that they both have the same model gun. He focuses his lens, zooming in and – there – a mark on the thumb of both of their right hands. His lens can only do so much; he can’t pick out what the actual symbol is.  He shifts his position, silently crossing the beams until he is at the north most point of the warehouse. There is a group of six men sitting on folding chairs and chatting to each other as they polish their guns. On the table in front of them amidst playing cards and cheap beers is a clear white packet, already open.

It takes a moment for Dick to hear what they are saying, so many of them talking that it’s difficult to follow one conversation.

“Damn, this is the good stuff, Fishbone never treats us like this.”

Dick tenses at the name. Fishbone was the name of the gang Dick put under during his time in Bludhaven. They had a history of trafficking women. Between Nightwing and Officer Grayson, they managed to get most of the problematic members incarcerated. Most, but not all – BPD have deep pockets after all.

It fits, the pieces slotting together. He knows the symbol on their thumbs is a simple skeleton of a 2D fish. It’s been about five years since Fishbone was put under; that was plenty of time to regroup, if enough competent members slipped through the cracks and the police got lax.

Another man, Penguin’s, laughs cockily, slapping a friendly hand on a shoulder and gestures to the white stuff, “Welcome to Gotham, my man. It’s helluva score this time. Pengs never minds a little sampling, so long as we get the job done. More interestin’ than hauling brats around, am I right?”

The Fishbone men laugh heartily, while Penguin’s men chuckle nervously. They don’t touch the stuff, knowing Penguin’s policy on ‘sampling’.

So, what is this then?

Penguin doesn’t touch people. It’s not his M.O. This isn’t a trade.

A doubling up?

Penguin isn’t in Gotham – on the run from the police and the Bats. His operations have been slow, but they are still going. Is Penguin giving Fishbone a sample of his goods, while they pass through to set up a deal?

Dick listens in for another minute or so, but nothing of value is said. He’s on borrowed time. He can see from the way that the truck trailers are set up, the smell of gas potent, that this isn’t a long stay. If Dick leaves, they might be gone within an hour.

He takes a deep breath. There’s nothing for it. He’ll have to catch them first, ask questions later.

He reaches for his utility belt, taking out a small silver ball barely the size of the tip of his thumb with one hand. This is best shot to even the odds.

With another breath, Dick drops the sleep gas grenade. At the same moment, he turns around and sprints back to where the cages were.

There is an immediate shout as the grenade releases purple gas upon impact. Immediately, the rest of the men are looking over.

One of the men by the cage signals for the other to stay, while he goes to check out the scene. Dick knows he has to work quick, releasing his grappling hook and diving down to catch the lone man by the cage unaware. He slams into him, taking him down to the ground. He can’t muffle his cry of shock and pain, and Dick grimaces, quickly using the butt of his baton to knock him unconscious.

The kids shriek at the suddenness of Dick’s arrival, but Dick doesn’t have time to calm them down. The other man rounds the corner at the sound of his partner’s pain and Dick rushes him, making sure he doesn’t get any closer to the kids.

“Thought I’d invite myself to the party,” Dick says cheekily.

“What the fuck -” the hired grunt barely gets out, raising his gun but not before Dick ducks down, sweeping low in a kick and sending the man tumbling harshly on his back. Dick stomps on the man’s hands, kicking the gun away and activating the electricity on his baton, and proceeds to knock the man unconscious.

He doesn’t get a minute to breathe, a bullet whizzing by his ear as two more men round the corner.

There is already clear shouting, “It’s a Bat! Fuck, get into position! Get the trucks ready!”

Dick reacts immediately, sending his charged baton flying at one of the goons and dives to the side in a controlled roll. There is a loud scream but no tell tale _thunk_ and within seconds guns are opening fire.

He doesn’t have cover, but he’s long since learned how to multitask.

Between a roll, he grabs his bird-a-rangs, sending two of them flying with unerring accuracy.

He takes the screams of pain as his cue, springing to his feet and professionally ignoring his disorientation. He’s further away now, but the men are in shock, clutching their bleeding hands, so he takes a running start and leaps. His leg powerfully kicks one man to floor. The way the man hits his head, he’s down for the count. In a seamless movement, Dick lands in a crouch, dodging a desperate punch, and springing back up with an uppercut straight to the soft point of the other man’s chin. He drops, and Dick steps back, panting lightly.

He doesn’t get longer than a second. A hard cry erupts from his lip when bullets hit his back. His suit does its job and makes sure nothing penetrates. Still, the full force of the impact isn’t anything to scoff at – it feels like his muscles have erupted and his bones are rattling for a moment.

“It’s Nightwing!”

“Is he alone?”

“Fuck, search the area, Bats might be here too!”

“Get in the truck!”

Dick takes a moment to breathe. That’s always one of the hidden advantages of going into a group fight solo. Everyone is disoriented and the chain of command falls apart. Men hesitate on what to do.

The man who shot Dick is cursing, hands trembling as he shoots his now empty gun. He fumbles for a reload even as his companion decides he has a better chance making a get away and bolts back to the trucks.

Ignoring the pain, Dick reaches back to grab more of his bird-a-rangs. He runs for the man scrabbling with his gun, even as he throws his weapon at the thug trying to escape. It’s a special design, splitting apart after a second in the air, a thin steel rope in between. It wraps around the man’s knees and he drops with a cry of surprise. By this time Dick’s gotten to the other man and gives him an old fashioned one-two to take him down, he uses his remaining baton to shoot an electric current that makes sure the man stays down.

“I know that I am rocking the blue and black, but I don’t like seeing it on my skin,” Dick complains, walking to the man frantically struggling on the floor, attempting to unwrap the steel wire.

The man sneers, “Red’s more your colour, ‘Wing. Blood red.”

Dick only has a moment to react when the man stops fumbling with the wire to grab a knife under his jacket, aiming straight for Dick’s thigh.

Dick’s fast enough to dodge the first swipe but not the second one.

He grunts when the knife slices through the outer portion of his thigh, high enough that he manages to get a bit of Dick’s hip. His suit stops it going any further than that, but it still parted – fuck, a lasered knife. He fucking hates those.

Dick doesn’t let the entire dance go longer than a few seconds, working through the pain to knock the man unconscious with a well placed shock to the sternum.

When the man drops, Dick does too, hissing at the burning sting. It’s not a deep wound, but it’s enough to be a hindrance.

His instincts tell him that there is no immediate threat in his vicinity, so he takes a quick moment to look around. At the far end of the warehouse, the men at the table are slumped over. Dick grimaces when he sees only four.

With the men he’s physically taken down, Dick still has another six to account for.

_Fuck._

But at least for now, Dick knows they are focused on escaping. Most of the men left over are Penguin’s, and he knows they’ll try their best to secure the goods. A Penguin that has an empty delivery is worse than the Bats.

He breathes through another flash of pain when he turns around, taking in the sight of wide fearful eyes huddling in the back corner.

None of the kids are hurt, and no one is approaching the area – this is probably the best scenario, ensuring that no hostages will be used against him.

With a grunt, he stands on his feet, drawing up his persona to the fullest to make sure his leg doesn’t falter at the new pressure. It’s with the same gritted teeth he works through the screaming pain in his back when he straightens up. He resists the urge to hunch over, not willing to show any signs of weakness – not to the goons, and not to the kids. Dick’s lucky that none of the bullets penetrated, a combination of the state of the art suit and the distance of the fired shots. It just sucks that the grunt was a good enough shot to cluster them in the same area. It’s literally going to be a pain, but Dick has fought with worse.

He turns to the kids, about to give them some sort of reassurance but the roar of a truck’s engine snaps Dick out of that thought.

The garage doors are lifting, and a truck is coming to life. Shit, that was faster than he thought, considering it’s only been a handful of minutes since Dick started.

Dick hisses in frustration. He can sprint, but the dock is on the other end of the warehouse. He’s fast, but by the time, he gets there the truck will have reached optimal velocity and will outpace Dick in seconds.

Just as soon as Dick decides he doesn’t have a choice and starts running, a pair of headlights suddenly blindside him.

Dick’s lens automatically dim in reaction to the lights, saving him from the instinctive need to freeze up. He notices immediately that it’s an auto motor forklift, careening for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants, still running for the truck. He can’t outpace this forklift either.

His heart notches in instinctive fear when he hears the screeching tires get closer to him. In a last ditch effort, Dick throws himself to the left, again into a controlled roll and grabbing for his utility belt.

To his surprise, the forklift only picks up speed once Dick is out of the way. Jaw wide open, Dick watches as it makes a path straight for the truck.

Logic kicks in, and Dick watches anxiously, heart in his throat, until the last second. He relaxes only as he sees the tell tale Red Hood dive out of the lift, tucking and rolling.

The forklift slams into the truck with a terrible noise, but Dick tunes it out. He sees the truck slam into the half open garage door, the resounding impact throwing off two of the goons who had been working to get the door open. He runs faster until he arrives at Jason’s side, the younger man still on the ground.

He arrives just in time, barely managing to get over Jason’s prone body, mostly his unprotected legs, as bullets open fire.

He nearly screams at the pain, body alight with instinctive fear, increasing his disorientation. But he holds it in, clenching his jaw and riding out the painful blows to his body.

There is a fumbling below him, and then Jason sluggishly manages to lift a gun and shoot back.

His hand isn’t steady but Dick is thankful for that. The return fire makes the firing goon pause, prioritizing taking cover and Dick springs up, throwing his last bird-a-rang catching the guy before he can get to far.

As soon as he lets loose his bird, Dick ducks back down, fumbling for Jason’s utility belt. He gets lucky on his first try, getting the same sleep grenade he just used.

He rolls it underneath the tilted truck and knows he hits home when manly yells fill the air before silence overtakes them.

Dick pants violently, working through the blinding pain. It must be bad if adrenaline is still letting it peak through. Nonetheless, he gets to his feet with pained groan.

Below him, Jason shuffles lethargically to his feet. A quick sweep up and down, and Dick can tell he wasn’t hit by the gun. Jason gets up and sways.

Dick automatically reaches out to steadily him.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dick hesitates at the granulated voice. Even through the voice modifier, Dick can pick up on the ice cold tone and hostile body language.

With a short nod, Dick backs away.

He has to bite back a violent cry as his left leg nearly crumbles under him. It took the brunt of the desperate barrage. It shakes badly but holds up. Jason luckily is already limping over to the scene.

It’s just pain, he reminds himself; he is good at handling pain.

Between breaths, Dick reaches for the headspace where the pain can be put under him. It’s nothing like the space Dick has when he is with Jason. This is all of Batman’s meditative training, but it works just as well.

He turns and follows Jason, graciously taking the stairs to get to the other side, so Jason doesn’t have too.

“Clear,” Dick calls softly, taking in the bodies of the men slumped over on the floor. He goes to inspect one with a clear head wound, courtesy of the crash no doubt. He breaths a bit easier when he feels a steady pulse.

“Clear,” Jason’s emotionless voice calls.

Dick counts the bodies, carefully checking inside the truck to see the slumped over driver. He forces his body to climb into the truck and checks the man’s pulse like he did with the other. It’s fainter but sturdy all the same.

It’s with a disorientating realization that Dick realizes he needs to call in the GPD. They would have been stationed nearby. The traditional ominous Bat note would have notified them that something was going on.

He does so now, tapping into his comms.

It is on the emergency wavelength, which makes Dick pause. That isn’t good – Oracle would have switched that over, meaning that one of the others Bats must be having a difficult enough time that they didn’t want Nightwing or Red Hood unfocussed.

“Yeah?” Barbra’s voice is distracted when Dick calls through.

Dick is exhausted, mentally and physically, so he just says, “GPD needed ASAP. Things got…complicated.”

There is a pause on Oracle’s end, and Dick can practically feel the palpable shift of concentration as Barbra goes from giving him half an ear to her full attention.

“You two okay?”

Dick sighs, “We’ll need Agent A to stand by for medical when we return.”

There is another slighter pause on Barbra’s end before she says, “Roger. I’ve pinged the GPD as well. They’ll be there in three minutes.”

“Thanks, O.”

Barbra makes a small sound of assent before the line goes silent again.

Dick hobbles back up to the other side, unsurprised to see Jason has nearly reached the cages where the kids are.  

It’s a long walk, and Dick doesn’t have the luxury of time. He doesn’t want to be here when the GPD roll in.

So he breaks into a reasonable run, making sure he is still riding well above the ocean of pain.

He nearly reaches Jason when suddenly one of the cage doors slam open.

Dick and Jason both freeze as a man emerges from a cage, a struggling girl forced into a headlock under him. He has a gun trained to her forehead and a crazy look in his eye.

Dick’s stomach sinks completely. He’s out of birds, and there is no way he can fire anything off before a trigger happy finger releases.

“Stay back, or I’ll rip into her!” the man roars.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Dick immediately holds his palms up, hands empty and placating. He’s only got his one baton and he easily lets it drop.

“Hey buddy,” Dick starts to say only to be cut off.

“I’m not your ‘buddy’, ‘Wing. Fuck, why you always gotta fuck wit’ my life!?”

Dick notices his thumb – Fishbone. Okay he can work with that.

Jason is still crouched down, in front of the first cage. He is still – good. Dick knows Jason won’t do anything to endanger the girl, but with the way things have been going tonight Dick doesn’t want to chance it.

Dick slowly walks around him, giving wide berth in efforts to make it so Jason falls off his periphery.

“Stop right there!” the man yells, digging his gun in harder and getting another scream from the girl.

Dick halts immediately.

“Okay, not your buddy,” Dick tries to deflect, “no worries. I can work up to that. We can start right now. How about you and me have a chat?”

The man sneers, but stops digging his gun in, “A chat? You wanna talk, Birdie?”

Dick suppresses his wince at the name, nodding his head for the guy to continue.

“Let’s talk about how you ruined my life, eh? I had a good thing goin’ for me ‘fore you showed up. The cash, the cars and the women - all with my brothers right beside me. Now, they’re in the box and I’m stuck in this shit-water city working for some freak that thinks he’s a fucking bird! What is with this fuckin’ city? Everyone tryin’ to get high in a different way? Thinkin’ ya’ll can fly if you dress up?”

He can see Jason moving, steadily moving closer all while in his crouch. Dick sways forward, making sure the man’s eyes are completely on him as he rants.

When it’s clear he’s winding down, Dick prods, “Ouch, man. That’s tough. Sounds like you got a bone to pick with me.”

And there, the gun falters a bit as the man starts to wave it around for emphasis, “‘Bone’, to pick wit’ ya? Damn fuckin’ right, ya cunt. Fishbone’s gotta bone to pick wit’ ya!”

During his rant, the gun in his hand momentarily hovers at Dick instead of the girl.

Trusting his instincts, Dick takes another step forward.

“I said stay where you are, damnit!” the man yells, gun training on Dick.

It’s all Jason needs – having steadily been working his way up. Between the girls squirming and Dick’s steps, Jason has managed to stay in his blind spot.

As soon as the gun trains on Dick, Jason lunges, grabbing the man’s wrist and breaking it in a brutal twist.

The man screams in pain, letting go of the girl to try and claw Jason off of him. Jason is still sluggish and wrong footed, so when the man desperately charges forward, Jason is thrown back against the cage door. The thug is just about Jason’s height but considerably heavier and the impact pushes the cage back, nearly tipping it over.

Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have been enough to wind him, but Jason is already fighting against the sedatives and must be doing his best to push away enough, so the cage doesn’t go over. The screams of the terrified kids is easily heard over the grunts of exertion from the fighting men.

Dick steps in quickly, grabbing the shaking girl and getting her out of the way before he joins the fray.

With a well placed elbow, he breaks the lock that the goon has on Jason’s neck. He drops enough to shoulder him in the gut, ignoring the white flash of pain when he uses his lower body to _push_.

Jason throws his weight in as well and between them the man has to step back.

His eyes are truly alight with panic now, and Dick needs to get him incapacitated before he does something stupid. Like the others, he could be hiding a knife as well.

“Go high!” Dick yells at Jason, immediately ducking down and away as the man kicks at Dick desperately.

Jason doesn’t hesitate when Dick provides him an opening, leading the goon right into Jason.

Jason throws a violent punch at the man’s face, snapping his head to the side. Within the second, the goon is down.

Even with the limp body in front of him, it takes Dick a moment to calm down. The adrenaline is still pumping high, so Dick immediately catches movement in his periphery.

Thinking that it’s another goon, Dick whips around only to freeze when he sees Jason pointing the dropped gun at the unconscious man.

_Oh no._

Dick swallows his panic, moving on instinct to step into the line of fire.

Jason’s body is tense – nothing like the powerful passion he normally carries. It’s almost robotic, textbook, the way Jason holds the gun steady.

“Move.”

Dick shakes his head, mouth dry.

He wants to reason with Jason – as Dick to Jason not as Nightwing to Red Hood.

But he can’t, the kids are here, and Dick knows GPD can’t be that far off.

“Hood, put the gun down,” Dick asks firmly. Platitude and distraction won’t work on Jason, more likely to incite anger than hesitation.

“Move, or I’ll make you.”

There is a deadly seriousness in Jason’s voice, and Dick’s heart is aching. He can’t help but see the dichotomy between the man he loves and the man that his lover can be.

“Don’t do this, Hood,” Dick pleads.

He lets his softer voice bleed through. This is Dick begging to Red Hood now.

Dick isn’t completely in the line of fire. Only the head of the unconscious body behind him is covered by Dick’s legs.

Dick gasps and moves when Jason suddenly moves his arm holding the gun to the left.

It was a bluff.

Jason doesn’t fire, but now Dick is awkwardly the centre of the man. Left, and Jason gets the thighs. Right and Jason has a clear shot to the head.

 _Fuck_.

Dick tries to take a deep breath but fails. His breath is coming in short staccato pants, too emotionally distressed to find the calm he needs.

He can’t let Jason do this. He _can’t_.

Jason has worked so hard to overcome the whispers of the Lazarus Pit. He won’t let Jason’s progress be jeopardized.

Jason’s going to shoot, Dick knows. Left or right. Left or right.

“Last chance, ‘Wing. Move if you don’t want blood splatters on your suit.”

Dick bites his tongue, resisting the urge to cry ‘Jason’.

He shakes his head all the same with a finality Dick knows.

Jason isn’t thinking straight. Between the no doubt angry green haze and the sedatives, Jason isn’t thinking of what Dick is doing in front of the body. His most basic sense must be telling him that Dick isn’t fast enough to stop a bullet. He has enough power and speed to do what he wants.

But Jason is clearly underestimating Dick. Underestimating his resolve to stop Jason. Underestimating how well Dick knows Jason.

As soon as Dick shakes his head in refusal, he dives to the left. A head shot is the only thing Jason would go for in this state. All Dick needed was his cue.

The bullets hits Dick straight in the chest. He feels his ribs cracking.

The silence after the sound of an empty clip is deafening.

The children are quiet, Dick realizes, as he slumps to the ground.

He can’t hear much over the roar of his blood.

It must be wishful thinking, but Dick thinks he hears a soft, “Dick?”

His mind is really floating now - away from the pain, away from the heat.

When two legs drop to their knees right in front of Dick’s eyes, he knows he didn’t imagine it.

He thinks he is smiling. Unfortunately, he can’t feel much right now, so he hopes he is smiling.

Jason’s back.

“Nightwing!”

White followed by black creeps up on the edge of his vision.

Dick wants to use his voice, but the idea of producing sound right now is beyond basic instinct. He hopes he manages to lip the ‘Jay’ he wanted to say.

A gloved hand reaching for him is the last thing he sees before he goes down.

 


	3. Chapter 3

He comes too slowly.

This is not the first time he’s woken up, but it’s the first time he’s woken up and is ready to actually open his eyes. Or maybe not, he can afford to sleep a bit more, can’t he?

“Master Richard,” Alfred’s soft voice calls.

Okay, so maybe not.

Dick grimaces but manages to fight against the gunk gluing his eyelashes together. Slowly, he opens his eyes, keeping them trained on what he hopes is the roof of the cave. It’d be beyond unsettling, if he somehow damaged his sense of perception and balance (again).

Except he’s not in the cave.

He’s in his room, in the manor.

Dick groans.

He doesn’t want to think, but it’s not like he can shut his brain off. If he’s in his room, that means he’s been out longer than the six hours recovery period Bruce allotes for the medbay in the Batcave.

He shuffles his eyes over. They feel so heavy in his eyes sockets. Eventually, he finds Alfred’s weathered face.

His throat feels too dry, but he manages to croak out, “How long?”

Alfred sighs, leaning over to push a water bottle with a straw to Dick’s lip. He takes it happily, swallowing slowly and letting Alfred’s comforting voice drift over him.  “Just under two days now, my boy. You were in a right state when Master Jason brought you in.”

Dick sighs, leaning back into the pillows. He must be on the good stuff, because he feels fuzzy.

Alfred doesn’t ‘snort’ but the disdainful intake of air resembles one all the same, so Dick realizes he spoke out loud.

“I imagine you must, Master Richard. Dr. Thompkins had to be called in. Four cracked ribs and your left femur is decorated with hairline fractures. This is discounting the amount of bruising and muscle tearing you have sustained. I’m afraid you won’t be leaving this bed for at least two weeks.”

It takes a moment for that to sink in.

He wants to sink his hand into his hair in frustration but thinks better of it when he feels a twang of protest. Okay, try not to jostle your cracked ribs, genius.

“Bruce’s orders or Leslie’s?”

Alfred’s mouth tilts up in a wry smile, “According to Master Bruce, you are not to leave the grounds for a month.”

Dick rolls his eyes and groans.

He’s been part of this song and dance before. He’ll protest the amount of time he’s grounded, Bruce will pull out that disappointed face, Dick will get angry, Bruce will get angrier and then point out how stupid it was to go at it alone –

Dick pauses that train of thought abruptly.  

“Where is Jason?”

Alfred sighs, “I am afraid he has fallen off the radar, so to speak. He remained only long enough to make sure you were attended to and to drop off a brief report to Miss Gordon.”

That makes Dick tense. “Report?”

Alfred looks at Dick levelly, “Perhaps, you may wish to wait until Miss Gordan is available?”

Dick shakes his head, “Aflie, please. I need to know what he said.”

Alfred stares at Dick intently, almost as if he is peeling back Dick layer by layer. Dick shudders but maintains his earnest expression. Damian would demand answers, Tim would try to manipulate to get them. Bruce, well, he would roll out of bed and crawl to his computer if he needed answers. (Cass wouldn’t be in this position, and Duke would leisurely accept his fate). But Dick knows that all he has to do is ask.

Alfred stands up, and Dick’s stomach drops, only until he realizes Alfred is pouring Dick another glass of water. That’s as close to fidgeting as Alfred is likely to get.

“I may have mistitled Master Jason’s conversation with Miss Gordan as a ‘report’. It was very much a series of statements. He mentioned the situation had escalated beyond what the mission for the night demanded,” at that Alfred not-so subtly glares at Dick, “and that you had decided to infiltrate alone. You were injured in the subsequent battle and,” Alfred pauses, “at it’s conclusion Master Jason shot you.”

Dick goes still.

He feels numb for all of a moment before pain flares through his chest, nothing to do with his ribs. The unfairness of that statement, how Bruce must have taken it. It burns so raw that Dick wants to tear at his chest.

Frustration claws through him, and he turns to Alfred quickly, “That’s not what happened -”

Alfred holds up a single aged hand, and Dick cuts himself off. Alfred so rarely interjects that Dick is dumbfounded for a second before Alfred shuffles closer, pushing Dick gently back down from where he had unconsciously started to struggle to get up.

“As I have mentioned,” Alfred says wirily, “it was not the best report given the situation. Master Bruce and Miss Gordon have been anxious to speak with you, but you need time, my boy. As does Master Jason, I believe.”

Dick looks into Alfred’s soft brown eyes, sees the tightness in them. He wants to reach out, touch Alfred’s hand. Dick’s always communicated best through touch, but Alfred has never been a tactile person. So, Dick allows himself to succumb to Alfred’s own version of fussing, knowing that the man must also be hurting.

Relaxing into the bed, he can’t help but feel tiredness creep back up on him. He hates this part of the recovery period.

“Time, huh?” Dick murmurs to the air. He doesn’t want that. He wants to roll out of this bed and climb out the window and  _find_ Jason. He needs to hold his lover close and  _apologize_. God, he doesn’t even want to think of what Jason must be feeling right now.

Dick closes his eyes and concentrates on keeping the hot sting of tears at bay. One perfect, beautifully stormy night months ago, Jason held Dick in his arms and quietly confessed into the nape of his neck that his worst fear is he’ll succumb to the influence of the Lazarus Pit. That he’ll wake up from his haze and see Dick dead in front of him.

Dick shudders and clamps down tightly at the roiling emotions, ignoring the burn of his throat and the tightness of his chest.

He won’t give into crying. It’s absurd to cry as if he was the one that was hurt. Dick’s injuries will heal. God knows how long it takes to mend trust.  

He distracts himself with words, even as his tongue starts to feel heavier. Alfred no doubt is dosing him for his next cocktail of drugs.

“I couldn’t let him kill again, Alfie,” Dick whispers, eyes closed, “He was so angry at them, at me, but I couldn’t let him go back. Does that make me selfish?”

He thinks he imagines the weight of a hand on his head, but he hears Alfred’s words ring clear in his head, his uncharacteristic sorrowful tone carrying through is ears easily, “My lad, selfish is a word I never would use to describe you.”

It almost hurts more to hear that from Alfred, who he can always trust to be impartial. It makes the sting of tears more violent, and he turns his head into his shoulder, knowing he is losing a battle.

He doesn’t imagine the weight of a hand on his shoulder. A few tears slip free.

“Master Richard, I ask for your selfishness here. Take the time needed to recover. You will not do Master Jason any good chasing after him in this condition. Time is what all parties need.”

He hears the quiet shuffle of feet and then the tell-tale  _snick_ of a door being closed.

Dick doesn’t move, afraid he’ll breakdown if he does. He waits out the cresting emotions, the yearning to have Jason here, the ugly broiling in his gut that eats him alive from the inside out when he thinks why Jason  _isn’t_ here.

It’s a combination of exhaustion and drugs that give him his artificial calm. He slips off to the imagined sight of beautiful blue eyes burning green.

_

His body floats - it’s like gravity has ceased to matter.

Dick feels the call of something, but can’t figure out what it is. There is a distant thought that he should open his eyes, but it’s muted, blinked away between one moment and the next.

Something grounds him.

The center of his chest feels so warm, he sighs.

The warmth is taken away.

Confusion takes over and Dick protests. A sound? Did he make a sound?

The weight returns and Dick sinks into it with a new appreciation.

“Don’t…leave,” he wants to say it, has to say it. He hopes he said it.

The weight anchors him down. It won’t let him float away.

When he wakes up hours later, the first thing he does is move his hand to his chest, regardless of the flare of pain it causes. He can practically feel the imprint of Jason’s hand over his heart.

When Bruce comes in, haggard look turning into one of relief, Dick gives him a small smile, still holding his heart.

_

Dick does end up staying the month.

Dick was right in guessing that the others must have been preoccupied that night. Tim’s broken his leg in two places. While he and Cass had been doing their patrol, they accidently stumbled upon Crocodile’s new hiding place.

Dick stays because no one else is as good at making sure Tim actually takes his bed rest.

(It’s not hypocrisy if you’re the big brother.)

Miraculously, not one person brings up Jason during his time there with exception of some good old natured ribbing. He’d given his report to Bruce and watched the complicated display of emotions rampage as much as they could on his stoic demeanour. Nonetheless, Bruce accepted the results even if he did not approve of the means.  It’s been a tumultuous few years, but they’ve all more or less found equilibrium with each other and no one is in a hurry to get rid of that.

It’s good, being there, but Dick hops happily into his car – no motorcycle for him for at least another month – and drives back to his apartment with a cheery wave and a promise to bring Jason over for lunch next Sunday.

As always, Alfred was right.

A month was a long time to think. A long time to realize he doesn’t want to spend any more time away from Jason. He needs to apologize and remind Jason that he isn’t going anywhere. Even though Jason rarely says it, Dick knows Jason loves him. He isn’t going to give that up.

Selfish and stubborn, that is Dick’s deadly combination.

So when he sees a note lying on his pillow in Jason’s messy scrawl saying,  _I need more time_ , Dick crumples it up into a ball and grabs his phone.

Tim picks up by the second ring, “He’s still not back?”

Dick rolls his eyes, “Don’t pretend you don’t have a tracker on him.”

Tim makes an exaggerated affronted sound, “Why I never!”

“Timbo, you better spill or I’m letting Alfred know you’ve pimped out the wheelchair to include nitrous oxide.”

There is a pause of silence.

“Yeah, okay. He’s in Canada. Montreal, Quebec.”

“‘Need more time’, my ass. Stuffing his face with poutine instead of greeting me,” Dick murmurs under his breath.

He says it playfully, more for Tim’s benefit than his own. He doesn’t want to bring up the cold ice pick stabbing him in the chest, as if to literally chip away at the confidence and resolve Dick has built.

“Are you pouting?” Tim asks incredulously, his familiar deep tone enough to jolt Dick out of his head.

Dick will deal with the aftermath, whatever it may be. He won’t live with regret.

Dick sniffs, “Timbo, be a good brother and fly me to Montreal. We haven’t booked air space, so the private jet’s out. I’m okay with either first class or by Conner-Air.”

There is another extended period of silence before Tim mutters, “Where is Duke and his ‘check your privilege’ when you need him?”

Dick grins, “Hypocrisy, little bro.”

He quickly packs a backpack and grabs his passport, heading straight out to hail a taxi.

Tim rants to him along the ride, and by the time Dick is finished tipping the driver, Tim winds down his side of the conversation.

“Bring him back, okay?” Tim asks quietly.

Dick nods, “I promise.”

It’s as much for himself as it is for Tim.

_

It’s not difficult to sneak into Jason’s hotel room. Tim is kind enough to hack into the hotel’s reservation database and add in Dick’s fake name. A charming smile and slight self-chastisement  _en francais_ and Dick has a pair of spare keys.

He pauses outside the hotel room, last minute hesitation curling up for just a moment. He can’t help but wrap his arm across his waist, gently brushing his still healing ribs.

He hasn’t stopped wondering what Jason would say once he sees him. A demand that Dick go fuck himself? A cold look with false pleasantries? A Jason that wouldn’t meet his eye and claim they are no good for each other?

The downside of having time is the overwhelming what-if scenarios that threaten to drown your self-esteem.

For better or for worse, it’s a good thing Dick is thick-skinned. He isn’t leaving until he has seen Jason. His carefully constructed bravado is all for naught when he enters the room and sees an empty bed.

The air goes out of him, and Dick’s shoulders slump. He takes a quick scan around and straightens back up when he sees Jason’s carry-on in the corner. So, his lover is probably just out.

Dick runs a hand through his hair, wincing at the grittiness. As soon as Leslie had given him the all clear, Dick had high-tailed it out of there. He had went straight from the manor, to his apartment, to the airport and the flight was just over six hours. He could use a shower.

Dick throws his backpack on the bed, shaking out it’s contents. He’d only brought one extra change of clothes, not expecting to stay more than a night. He hesitates when he grabs the sweatpants he brought, taking a look over at Jason’s carry-on. An idea niggles at him.

Giving in to temptation, he pads over.

Neatly packed are a few days worth of extra clothes, including pajamas. Jason’s probably been out of the country since the night he dropped Dick at the manor.

Dick can’t help the tug of a mischievous smile when he grabs one of Jason’s sleeping t-shirts. It’s one Dick remembers Jason wearing a lot, two stick figures drawn in white over the black shirt, one of them saying ‘I got your back’ while literally holding the second stick figure’s back in his hand. It makes him smile fondly.

It’s bigger than even Jason wears it, preferring it to go sleep. If they don’t pass out from sex, Jason isn’t really big on going to bed in just his boxers, hating having to see his scars first thing in the morning.

Even though it is bigger, it’s not quite large enough for Dick to wear it as a boyfriend look. So he rifles through until he finds them – Jason’s favourite red briefs.

With a jaunty whistle, Dick heads towards the shower.

He takes his time, careful of his injuries. The bruises and flesh wounds have healed up nicely, but after half an hour of standing under the hot spray, Dick can feel the beginning of tremors shaking through his still healing leg.

He turns off the shower and dries himself off with a fluffy towel.

He changes in the bathroom, first drawing up Jason’s underwear until it rests snugly on his ass. It rides up, Dick’s ass fuller than Jason’s, but it’s loser in the front. It’s not the comfiest fit but Dick is going for the look. He slips the large t-shirt over his head, sighing at the soft worn feeling. He can smell Jason’s lingering scent over the laundered aroma, and his stomach flips with want. It feels like home.

It fits loosely, drooping over one shoulder to show a bit of Dick’s collarbone. He knows what the look does to Jason. The red briefs barely peak through with the length of the shirt, and Dick knows exactly how he looks. He hopes Jason likes it.

He exits the bathroom, only slightly disappointed the Jason hasn’t returned yet.

He crawls into bed, feeling the long day starting to take its toll. The pillows smell like Jason’s favourite shampoo. Dick breathes deeply, fists clenching on top of the second pillow. He brings it closer to his chest and tries to press it firm enough to chase way the ache in his chest.

He’ll see Jason soon.

It’s that thought the he drifts off too.

-

He wakes at the click of a door opening, feeling better than he has in weeks. He’s so comfortable and loose, wrapped up in Jason’s scent. He only opens his eyes half-way, taking in the sight of a stunned Jason.

“Welcome back,” Dick whispers, voice husky in sleep.

He’s still half-asleep but he’s waking up fast. He moves his leg, hitching it up higher so his knee is drawing itself to his chest, slipping the edge of the comforter off and revealing his bare leg.

He watches Jason draw closer, face unreadable. His blue eyes take in the sight of Dick, roving from the tips of his head down to his feet and back again, and again. The unreadable mask slowly cracks and something that looks like painful hope sneaks across Jason’s face.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” Jason asks, also in a whisper.

The room is bathed in dusky light, a small swath of receding orange haloing Jason as he steps closer, sitting cautiously on the edge of the bed.

Almost like he can’t help himself, Jason lifts a hand and places it on sleep-warmed skin of Dick’s thigh.

Dick sighs softly, leaning his body closer to Jason’s.

Dick knows Jason can’t help it when he follows the arch of Dick’s body, trailing his hand up until he reaches Dick’s ass.

“Miss me?” Dick teases, eyes closing and just reveling in the hefty weight of Jason’s palm.

That was probably the wrong thing to say because Jason tenses, withdrawing his hand.

The last vestiges of sleep clear away and Dick opens his eyes, drawing himself up onto his forearm to get a look at Jason. He manages to stop the hiss of pain but not the minute tensing.

Jason notices and his expression shutters.

Dick forces himself up until he is sitting, angry at himself for that slip up.

“Jay - ” he starts only to be cut off.

Jason stands up, “You shouldn’t have come.”

The hurts. It stings deep in his chest, the pain of rejection blanketing over Dick for a moment and makes him hesitate. But only for a moment.

Dick stands up as well, looking down at the bed that separates them to Jason’s back. He briefly wonders if the ideal solution is to just tug Jason down into the bed by his shirt and commence some brutal make-up sex.

He dismisses the thought, looking at the rigid lines of Jason’s tense shoulders. He’s poised to just leave the room. Dick doesn’t doubt he has an escape route already planned out if need be.

So Dick does what he does best – talks.

“You don’t want me here?” he’s not faking the vulnerability in his voice, but he is choosing to purposefully open up with that.

As expected, Jason tenses harder.

“That’s not – fuck, Dick. I fucking  _shot_ you – you need to - ” Jason’s voice cracks and his splutters to a halt.

Oh, fuck this.

Dick crosses over the bed in between one blink and the next, using his strength to tackle Jason onto the bed. He immediately straddles him, using Jason’s shock to get him into a secure hold, arms pinning down Jason’s.

“If you try and push me off, you’ll hurt me more,” Dick tells Jason seriously, when he poises himself to buck.

Jason immediately halts, glaring at Dick, lips pulled back in a snarl, but says nothing.

Good.

Dick leans down, settling his weight more firmly on Jason’s middle, wanting him to feel grounded. He doesn’t stop until his breath mingles with Jason, ignoring the lick of pain that runs through his ribs.

It’s funny how Dick had spent the last month thinking of how  _angry_ Jason would be at him. He should have known better.

“Before you go on this self-flagellation trip, I’m sorry.”

Jason’s blue eyes widen, his passionate face so expressive that Dick sees the incredulity take over his face. “What in the fuck are  _you_ apologizing for?” Jason asks, dumbfounded.

Dick sighs, wishing he could just close the last few centimeters between them and kiss Jason senseless.

He leans his forehead against Jason’s instead, wanting to blanket Jason in intimacy that they’ve been missing in their time apart.

“For letting you get that far,” Dick says seriously, staring straight into Jason’s eyes.

Jason’s eyes cloud over in that familiar anger, “You didn’t fucking  _let me_ do anything, Dick. I chose to pick up that gun.”

And here comes the tricky part.

“And you chose to drop it,” Dick replies, heatedly.

The indignation on Jason’s face preludes his body movements, and Dick rolls with Jason when he switches their position in a feat of strength, breaking out of Dick’s hold on his arms to flip Dick from his hips. It doesn’t hurt Dick at all.

Jason’s parodies Dick’s hold, bracketing Dick’s face with their combined arms. Jason’s weight is familiar even as he holds himself up enough to make sure there is no unnecessary pressure on Dick’s ribs.

“Drop it?” Jason mocks, “Are you still doped up, Dickie? I dropped the gun after I  _shot you_!”

Jason isn’t yelling but his voice escalates. It’s completely stupid, but Dick has to take a moment just to admire the familiar tenor of Jason’s voice.

“But you didn’t pick it back up. You didn’t shoot him even when you had a clear chance.” Dick knows he’s being cruel, but it gets his desired effect.

Jason looks anguished, “You fell. In front of me, you dropped like you were dead. I looked down before I got to you, I was waiting for the blood. You think I could have thought of anything else but you?”

Jason’s pained expression makes Dick chest seize up. He has to clear his throat before he can speak again, “That’s why I am apologizing. Because I followed a decision I thought was best in making sure you didn’t hurt yourself. But what I did hurt you.”

He tugs his arms. He wants to cup Jason’s face, to wipe away the hurt and anger in his eyes. He wants to bring Jason into his arms, so he can protect Jason from the world.

Jason’s hands tighten on his wrist. “You talk about hurting me as if I didn’t - ”

“Shoot me,” Dick impatiently cuts off, “I know. But Jason, you weren’t shooting for me. You were shooting for a man that locked children in cages. A man who used a little girl as a flesh shield. Jason, I’ve never condoned your killing but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand your motives. That I don’t sympathize with them. I stepped in front of your gun because I didn’t want you to kill a man who wasn’t worth bloodying your hands – who wasn’t worth you breaking.”

“You think seeing you lying there didn’t break me!?” Jason yells, anger roiling through him.

“I know it did!” Dick retorts heatedly, glaring back at Jason. He hates that there is a hot stinging swell in his eyes. He won’t fucking cry.

Jason freezes at Dick’s admission, visibly unsure of how to continue this conversation. So, Dick does it for him.

“Do you want me to leave?” Dick asks, drawing back to their original conversation. His voice cracks on emotion at the end of his sentence. He pretends it didn’t, glaring at Jason through wet eyes.

Jason breathes heavily, still holding himself over Dick but farther than Dick had been.

“I don’t want to leave,” Dick continues, when Jason doesn’t take the pause to say anything, “I want you to hold me. To tell me that you missed me, like I missed you. To forgive me.”

It’s irritating but his eyes end up overflowing, two salty tear tracks disappearing into the pillow.

Fuck it, he can’t get any more pathetic than this. “Please, Jason.”

He’s laying himself bare. This is a layer of himself he has so rarely shown anyone else. He doesn’t know what he will do if he is rejected.

Jason starts to say something angrily in Arabic, eyes a swirl of mixed emotion as he stares down at Dick. But his mouth softens, and he sways just a bit closer. He finally switches to English, breathing heavily against Dick’s mouth. “Fuck you, Grayson. I fucking can’t even be mad at myself when you beg like that.”

Dick muffles his moan of relief against Jason’s lips when they swoop down. Jason presses and presses, and Dick opens his mouth after drinking in his fill of those chapped lips. Jason’s tongue is heavy, filling Dick’s mouth and taking what he wants. Dick loses himself in the heady feeling. He tugs at his wrists again, but instead of letting go, Jason presses harder, pulling back from the kiss.

Jason stares down at him intensely, “This isn’t over. We’re going to talk about this.”

Dick gives him a wirily smile, “First you say you wanna talk, but you’ll be telling me to shut up in a few minutes.”

That finally cracks a smile out of Jason, an upturn of his lips that’s so painstakingly familiar that Dick aches in yearning.  

“If I could actually get you to shut up, life would be a lot easier,” Jason teases, but there is still a note of hesitation in his voice, like he still feels wrong-footed.

Dick knows it’s futile to break Jason’s hold, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to let up anytime soon. So, Dick turns his head, craning it just enough to press a soft kiss of Jason’s wrist. Jason’s breath hitches, and Dick smiles against his wrist. He turns back to Jason, “I know you don’t want easy, Jay.”

Jason looks like Dick just punched him, expression failing to hide his own longing. It seems like his ideas all lighting the proverbial light bulb today, because a flash of inspiration strikes him. He knows what Jason needs.

“Do you remember that night a few weeks ago – when you tried to fuck me standing up?”

It’s almost funny how Jason visibilly reels from the change in conversation, face going slack in surprise until he blinks owlishly.

Unsure of how to respond, Jason nods.

Dick smiles seductively, already working on changing the atmosphere between them, “I’m too delicate right now, Jay. I can’t put too much pressure on my leg, you know?”

Jason’s eyes widen as he quickly catches on to what Dick is saying.

But Dick isn’t done. He needs to set them on the right path, so Jason can sink into his role.

“I loved it, Jay. I loved the fact that it was only you driving me wild – just your arms, your hands, your skin. You held me so easily then. You’ll do it now, won’t you, Jay? You’ll take care of me?”

He lowers his lids, peering up at Jason through his eyelashes. He arches a bit, just enough to remind Jason that he really isn’t wearing too much right now.

He watches greedily as Jason’s eyes darken, lust overriding his hesitation. Dick finally feels like they are clicking again, finding the same wavelength after being knocked out of frequency.

“Yeah, Dickie,” Jason husks, “I’ll take such good care of you. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Dick shudders, hot want prickling through him as he remembers Jason’s words from that night. His thighs go up to wrap around Jason’s waist, squeezing it tightly in want. Yeah, it’s not exactly going to be any easier with his legs wrapped around Jason, but it is the idea that counts.

Right now, Dick just needs Jason to focus on him. The Dick that is right here, right now, not slumped over on the ground.

“Like this, Jay. Prep me like this,” Dick asks softly, tone whining just enough that it teases begging. Truthfully, Dick isn’t ready to give up this position just yet. Jason cages him in so perfectly, his solid weight a comfort after all this time with uncertainty simmering between them.

Jason ducks down to kiss him passionately, making Dick moan. He kisses so long and hard that Dick feels light-headed when Jason does break away, a string of saliva dirtily connecting them.

“Anything you want,” Jason replies against his wet lips, sending tingles through Dick’s lips.

Dick sighs with want, transforming that into a soft moan when Jason finally releases his wrists, trailing down his forearms to his shoulders.

Jason readjusts himself, leaning back. His hands come down to brace Dick’s ribs. There is such a soft, tender look in his eyes that Dick feels an answering swell of emotion in his gut. God, he missed Jason. Jason rubs his hands up and down Dick’s ribcage. First, they are over the shirt. Then, those fingers are sneaking under it between one breath and the next.

Dick sighs softly at the feel of those gun calloused hands firmly touching his sleep warmed skin. He knows Jason is inspecting him, looking for the injuries. Dick just breathes through it, soft and airy. He knows how much Jason loves hearing him.

He wants to arch his back, but that would be pushing it, and there is nothing Dick wants less right now than to further break Jason’s trust in him. He won’t forgive himself if Jason walks away tonight, thinking he hurt Dick further because Dick got over eager.

“Don’t stop kissing me, Jaybird,” Dick murmurs softly.

Jason complies immediately, leaning down to bully his way into Dick’s mouth again. Dick lets him, lifting his jaw to help get a better angle, and sucks on Jason’s tongue. He could spend the entire night like this, just with Jason on top of him.

But there is more to be had. Dick wants that floaty space he gets only with Jason, wants to sink into it as fast as he did that night that felt like a lifetime ago.

His free hands had been tangled in Jason’s hair, but he moves them now. He traces over the lines of Jason’s body, appreciatively running his palms over Jason’s broad shoulders.

He breaks the kiss by tilting his head to the side, but Jason rolls with it, pressing biting kisses down the length of Dick’s jaw and trailing them, until he reaches his neck. Dick moans softly when Jason starts to suck harshly, intending to leave his mark.

“Take your clothes off,” Dick demands, tugging at the rucked up shirt.

Jason makes a frustrated sound but obligingly backs away the seconds it takes to just grab his shirt from the back and throw it off in one swift movement. Dick’s throat dries up at the act, greedily drinking the sight of his lover’s chest.

He follows with his touch, palming Jason’s shoulders, down his pecs, teasing the perky brown nipples just to hear Jason moan. He follows further down, tracing Jason’s happy trail and meaningfully grabbing a palm full of Jason’s cock over his pants.

He arches an eyebrow, and Jason rolls his eyes, stepping off the bed to drop his pants and underwear.

Dick willingly parts his thighs, cradling Jason between them when he crawls back into bed.

He plucks at the borrowed shirt, “You don’t want me to strip?”

Jason ducks down to where he was before, mouthing at Dick’s neck with hot, wet kisses for a moment before he whispers, “Leave it on. I want to fuck you while you wear my clothes.”

Dick’s stomach swoops in arousal. He barely stops himself from arching, but he does grind down.

“Even this?” Dick asks breathlessly, grabbing Jason’s hand and bringing it down to the borrowed underwear. Jason humors him, both of them palming Dick’s half hard cock softly.

Jason smirks, untangling his hand to tease at the lip of the hole at his thigh, finger dipping in and making Dick’s legs clench in want.

“I’ll just push them to the side when I fuck you,” Jason purrs, voice deep. His finger teases the outline of Dick’s ass cheek.

Dick moans, feeling sensitive.

“Why aren’t you fucking me now?” he demands, feeling the need to pick up the pace.

Jason gives him another smirk, “I’m gonna take care of you, Dickie. Gotta take my time and spread you open, make sure you’re ready for me. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Dick whimpers when Jason finally dips his finger into Dick’s ass, the tip of his finger brushing over Dick’s entrance teasingly.

Dick nods, barely stopping another grind down. He has to remind himself what this is for.

“Take care of me, Jay,” Dick mewls softly, his hands come up to cup Jason’s face, “Open me up and give me what I want.”

Jason moans, ducking down to kiss Dick fiercely again. They’ve never been good at slow or teasing. Both too impatient unless they were trying to out stubborn the other.

When Jason breaks away, shifting his weight to stand up, and Dick nearly begs Jason not to leave. He swallows the words down harshly. Jason’s only going to get the lube, it’s ridiculous to feel as bereft as he does.

Nonetheless, he eagerly welcomes Jason back, leaning up a bit to claw at Jason’s shoulders, kissing him demandingly, sinking his own tongue into Jason’s mouth for the first time this night.

Jason makes a sound akin to a growl, firmly pressing Dick back down and pushing Dick’s tongue out, chasing it back to Dick’s mouth. He nips Dick’s lips harshly, sucking in Dick’s swollen bottom lip and biting down, until Dick is sure he’s going to bleed. Dick pants in want.

Jason releases him, dropping the lube by Dick’s head. He reaches for the shirt and rucks it up until it’s under Dick’s armpits and out of the way. He reverently takes in Dick’s bared torso. His eyes heatedly trail over where Dick’s ribs are cracked.

For a second, Dick thinks they’re going to lose the moment, something dark crossing Jason’s features, but between one blink and the next, it’s gone.

Jason leans down, still careful not to put too much of his body weight on Dick, and kisses across Dick’s rib cage. He doesn’t make a sound, nothing beyond the wet schlicks of his tongue laving over his skin between one kiss and the next, but Dick swears he can feel Jason mouthing something on his ribs.

He doesn’t get a chance to comment on it. Jason’s large hands palm his hips. His thumbs dip into Dick’s hip bones and press in with a heaviness that never fails to make Dick want to buck. It sends a fire of arousal through his veins. That sweet edge of pain missed in their earlier interactions. He knows instinctively that this is as far as it’s going to get. Jason is not in any mood to hurt Dick, even sweetly. He relishes the pain, giving into the temptation to arch just slightly, enough so his chest sways to Jason’s mouth.

Jason takes the hint, teasingly kissing Dick’s nipple. He waits until Dick makes a noise of pleasure before he licks. Heat crawls over Dick’s face; he’s embarrassed as Jason looks down at him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Jason opens his mouth a bit wider and, making sure Dick is watching, bites down.

Dick makes a garbled sound, his hands immediately going into Jason’s hair and tugging violently. The pain is so sweet, so surprising, Dick aches in his borrowed underwear. Jason presses himself firmly enough that Dick can’t arch the way he wants too, but that’s good too. Dick loves Jason’s weight over him, and even though they’ve never gotten a chance to really discuss it, Dick knows Jason knows.

Jason alternates between sucking and biting, never moving over to his abandoned nipple. It makes Dick hiss, quickly becoming oversensitive. Jason’s thumbs never stop the unrelenting pressure on his hips.

“Please, Jay,” Dick whimpers, “stop teasing me.”

It seems to be what Jason was waiting for, because he stops abusing his nipple, and his hands drop from Dick’s hips to cup his ass. He lifts Dick’s lower half easily, pressing it up to Jason’s cock. He grinds down into Dick, and they both moan.

Any other night, Jason would be playful with him, mouth quirked up mockingly at Dick’s begging.

Not tonight. Jason looks down at him, a heaviness in his eyes that Dick revels in.

“Okay,” Jason agrees softly, carefully dropping Dick back down and leaning down to kiss him.

Jason fumbles with the lube bottle that has sunk into the pillows, grabbing it and then leaning back. Dick breathes heavily, watching as Jason slicks up his fingers.

Jason hesitates for a second, “Do you want to turn around?”

It’d be the easier way to prep Dick, but Dick doesn’t want that. He shakes his head, arms reaching out to grab Jason and bring him closer.

“Kiss me while you finger me?” Dick asks softly, knowing exactly what his request does to Jason. He hides his smirk into Jason’s lips when his lover obliges him.

It’s ridiculous how desperate Dick is for Jason. They’ve gone longer without seeing each other before, though not as often since they’ve started this relationship. But never has there been any bad blood when they separated. The anxiety of not knowing if Jason would come back, it’s a feeling Dick never wants to experience again.

He sinks deeper into the kiss, knowing his desperation is coming off him in waves. Jason doesn’t falter, only gathering Dick into his arms, and kissing him in the way Dick loves.

Jason’s hand easily slips into the loose waistband of Dick’s brief. Dick makes a sound of pleasure when Jason’s slick fingers take time just to caress Dick’s ass, trailing from his tailbone to his perineum with gradually growing firmness.

When Jason teases his hole, Dick bites Jason’s lip in frustration. His thighs wrap around Jason’s waist, tightening to show his displeasure.

He can feel Jason’s stupidly self-satisfied smile against his lips. He doesn’t get a chance to pull back and whine, because between one kiss and the next, Jason sinks a finger deep into him.

Dick gasps, body tensing at the unrelenting breach, hole straining for a moment. Jason kisses him through it, and his other hand rhythmically gropes Dick’s ass. Dick untenses, concentrating on the burn with relish.

“More,” Dick whispers against Jason’s wet lips. He tightens his thighs, trying to grind down.

The angle isn’t the best for Jason to thrust, so he wiggles his finger around instead, as if to reintroduce himself to Dick’s inner muscles.

It draws a small chuckle from Dick, and he grins into Jason’s hot mouth, “I missed you too, Jay.”

Jason doesn’t say anything, but the tip of a second finger gently rubs against his stretched rim. Dick’s breath hitches and he pulses with want, nodding eagerly even as Jason chases his lips.

It’s too soon, but Dick really doesn’t care. He moans at the burn, at the heated stretch and the ache that builds up inside him when Jason pushes in with two.

“Greedy,” Jason murmurs against the corner of his mouth. Dick can see enough of Jason’s face to see his brow furrowed in concentration. He holds still enough for Dick to adjust to the width and takes Dick’s buck as a cue to start scissoring.

Dick sighs in contentment, letting Jason dictate the pace, and just feeling. Jason’s other hand claws at his asscheek, groping so harshly that Dick knows he’ll have bruises there. He revels in it.

“I need better access,” Jason husks against Dick’s lips.

Dick doesn’t get a chance to protest before Jason is flipping them again, this time with Jason on his back and Dick laying on his chest.

Dick can’t help but moan appreciatively at the show of manhandling, letting his hands sink into Jason’s biceps with his appreciation. Jason’s fingers are still lodged in him, so he clenches as well.

He doesn’t mind this position, ducking his head down to continue to kiss Jason. He has to crawl a bit over Jason’s chest to accommodate for the height difference, and his clothed cock drags against Jason’s abs. It makes him gasp in pleasure, and he grinds down even as Jason begins to thrust his fingers in him.

Dick loses himself in the sensation, making out with Jason through the time it takes for Jason to reacquaint himself with Dick’s limits. It’s a long finger fucking session, two fingers turning into three. Jason’s bare cock occasionally bucks against Dick’s ass and Dick always gyrates his hips back in encouragement, but Jason won’t take the invitation. Jason’s wrist must ache but he doesn’t protest at all, and Dick is helpless to deny his eagerness to stay like this, enjoying the fullness, the intimacy.

But eventually it builds up, so Dick has to whispers with kiss swollen lips against Jason’s, “Wanna come with you in me.”

Jason moans, rearing his head up to press one last harsh kiss on Dick’s lips, before sitting up.

Dick sits in his lap, content just to share the same air as his lover for a second. Jason’s eyes are so dark with lust, his cock red against Dick’s now stained underwear. The shirt is damp with sweat, but Dick doesn’t feel any need to take it off. Jason leans down to bite into the exposed collarbone, panting through his clenched teeth as Dick whimpers in want.

“Fuck,” Jason whispers into Dick’s shoulder after a second, his voice laden with desire. It makes Dick happy to hear just how much Jason wants this too.

He nods, pressing a smiling kiss into the crown of Jason’s head, “Yeah, fuck me.”

Jason nods, and Dick wants to see his face. He pushes back, cupping Jason’s face again and thumbing under the dark circles of Jason’s eyes.

They share a moment. Their chests press together, feeling each breath against each other.

Dick sinks into it so is wholly unprepared when Jason suddenly stands up.

He yelps, scrambling for a better hold even as Jason laughs at him.

“Not cool,” Dick pouts, only to have it kissed away.

Jason shakes his head, “I don’t wanna wait any longer.”

Dick nods in understanding, clenching his thighs tighter and winding his arms around Jason’s neck in a better hold.

Jason arm leaves Dick’s thigh for a second, and Dick watches raptured as Jason quickly slicks himself up. The movement is so dirty, and Dick moans again at the heady understanding that Jason is only holding him up with one arm.

He didn’t get a chance to tell him last time, so Dick tells him now, “I love it when you show your strength like this.”

Jason stops, using his one arm to lift Dick up higher to press a kiss against his throat. Dick tips his head back and moans, barely hearing Jason when he whispers, “I love it when you trust me like this.”

It tips something, and Dick gyrates against Jason for a second, “Fuck me, come on, I’ve waited so long, Jay.”

Jason wipes off the excess lube using Dick’s shirt, switching his grip hold Dick by the ass. He uses his fingers to bunch the fabric of the briefs to the side, and in no time is positioning himself against Dick.

Dick shivers at the feeling of Jason’s thick cock nestled against his ass, “Do it, Jay.”

Jason slowly presses forward with his hips, and Dick is taken by surprise at Jason forcing Dick to sink down onto his cock.

He whimpers, high and heady at the familiar realization that he has nothing but Jason holding him. There is no brace, the pace is all set by Jason. He sinks and sinks, shuddering as Jason opens him up steadily trying to press down faster and also pull away to adjust but unable to.

He can’t stop making noise, feels embarrassed, and knows his flush must be coming down to his chest. It feels so good to be this overwhelmed.

Jason doesn’t stop until he is as deep as he can get, holding Dick still on his cock.

Dick takes deep, panting breaths.

Jason takes the opportunity to kiss Dick, easily slipping his tongue in. Dick sucks on it helplessly, wiggling what little he can to take in the pulsing burn and move past it.

“I’m gonna start moving,” Jason warns, pulling back.

Dick keens in want, tightening up everywhere to show how onboard he is with this idea. It seems like a waste to use his mouth for talking, when he could be kissing Jason.

Except he can’t even do that.

When Jason lifts Dick off his cock, Dick has to break away to bite down on his lip to prevent a scream.

It’s too good, the pleasure of being invaded almost second to how easily Jason lifts him, hands clenching so fully around Dick’s ass cheeks that the unrelenting pressure reminds Dick that he can’t do much against Jason like this.

“Please, please,” Dick murmurs into the air, gasping heavily. His chest brushes against Jason’s frantically, and with every inhale his cock brushes against Jason’s abdomen.

“Yeah, Dickie,” Jason moans, voice gutted with dark pleasure, “I’ll take care of you.”

He bucks forward just as he drags Dick down and this time Dick can’t stop his yell of pleasure. It zings through him, and he clenches tightly in surprise. It doesn’t deter Jason, who only repeats the motion.

Within seconds, Dick is bouncing on Jason’s cock, head tossing side to side as he tries to escape the unrelenting pleasure. Jason’s found his prostate and is angling Dick to hit it with every upstroke.

“Jay, Jay,” Dick repeats as a mantra.

Jason heaves in exertion, but he doesn’t falter in the slightest. He moans along with Dick, steadying him even as Dick rakes lines down his back, needing something to ground him as he gets high off of lust, off the pleasure Jason gives him.

His cock aches fiercely, the arousal cresting and receding as Jason toys with the angles of Dick’s hips.

Through it all, Jason watches him.

Dick tries to hide, burrowing his face into his arms, but Jason stops.

It’s appalling, how much Dick immediately misses the noise of sex. All he can hear is their pants, before Jason tuts.

“Let me see your pretty blues, Dickie,” Jason coos, his steely voice at odds with his gentle words.

Dick whimpers, clenching onto Jason’s cock in protest. Jason’s hips involuntarily flex but he catches himself, and doesn’t move.  Dick cries in frustration, trying to arch to rub his dick against Jason’s abs. It won’t take much right now; Dick could come with just the right amount of pressure.

But Jason catches him, moving his own torso back. His arms shift, one arm firmly curling under Dick’s ass, and the other curling around Dick’s shoulder.

Dick huffs at the threat, biting Jason’s ear lobe in frustration before moving back.

Jason grins at him, pleased, moving his hands back.

Dick takes the opportunity to let his body go lax.

Jason gasps in surprise, legs moving forward to adjust himself and Dick. His arm has to wrench back up to Dick’s back to keep Dick from sliding out of his hold.

Dick moans, because his feet haven’t even touched the ground. It makes him feel like he is drowning in a pool of arousal, the surety that Jason won’t drop him, that he’s still trapped on Jason’s cock after all that.

Instead of getting angry, Jason chuckles, “Is that it, baby boy? Giving in? I told you, I’ll take care of you, didn’t I? Just let me.”

The noise Dick makes isn’t even recognizable, a sound of pure want.

Jason brings Dick back up, and Dick obediently wraps himself around Jason again.

He leans back enough to look at Jason, eyes lidding in pleasure when Jason begins to grind again. Jason’s hold on his ass only gets more brutal.

“This is it, Dickie,” Jason says to him, eyes nearly black with intensity, “be a good boy and come on my cock.”

Dick can only gasp as Jason starts to thrust again, the friction almost too much. He moans, unprepared when Jason picks up speed. He’s nailing Dick, forcing his hips up and down to meet his cock and unrepentant on how he brutalizes Dick’s insides.

Dick almost misses it, the precipice coming on him so fast he doesn’t get time to warn Jason.

When Jason moans his name, Dick is lost, crying out as he cums, exploding in his briefs. He can’t catch his breath, the air being punched out of him as Jason doesn’t stop his intensity.

He thrusts through Dick’s orgasm, moaning loudly and with abandon. Tears spring to Dick’s eyes at the overstimulation, Jason’s cock head painfully dragging over his swollen prostate.

But he doesn’t beg, watching through misty eyes in rapture Jason’s face. He sees Jason’s furrowed brows, panting mouth, and chiselled cheeks glistening in sweat. His eyes, half lidded and staring at Dick like he’s the only thing Jason sees.

Jason cums within moments after Dick, pulled over the edge by the sporadic clenching. Dick watches it all, finding himself sinking just the bit deeper, wanting all of Jason in him.

When Jason finishes, he sways.

A small burst of alarm goes through Dick, and he wiggles trying to get down.

Jason only grunts in protest, arms clenching around Dick tighter.

“Bed, Jay,” Dick coaxes, when it becomes clear how deep Jason is, eyes reverently looking at Dick for instruction.

Jason doesn’t protest, doesn’t even seem to think about the request before he’s fulfilling it. He climbs onto it with his knees, still inside of Dick until they’re near the centre. He drops Dick gently, following him down.

When Dick’s back hits the bed he uses his remaining strength to use his thighs to bring Jason down as well.

He grunts at the impact, his soggy briefs squelching against Jason’s abdomen.

Jason drops like dead weight and Dick hums in contentment. He brushes one hand through Jason’s dark locks, the other gently brushing against Jason’s back. He knows Jason isn’t with him right now, knows he needs to help ground him. He doesn’t make any move to get Jason’s softening cock out him.

“So good, Jay,” Dick says huskily into Jason’s ear, “you did so well.”

Jason twitches, and Dick hushes him, continuing his motions and whisper soft nothings into Jason’s ear.

At some point, Jason starts to shudder, and within seconds Dick hears the uneasy breathing of Jason’s soft cries. He doesn’t stop, only presses his hand harder down Jason’s back, reminding Jason over and over again at how well he took care of Dick.

Jason eventually slips out of him, and Dick uses that to switch their positions. Not too much, only enough to get at least part way out from under Jason. He doesn’t betray the flare of pain in his ribs, moving so Jason is still curled over him, just on his good side.

He rides out Jason’s headspace with him, never not touching him. He keeps speaking until Jason’s wet stuttering breaths ease into steadier breathing. He lets Jason keep his face down, knowing how much Jason hates anyone see him cry.

His own exhaustion tugs at him, but Dick ignores it, sleepily pressing kisses in between encouraging words and heavy pets.

When Dick goes in to press another kiss to Jason’s exposed cheekbone, Jason turns his head to meet that kiss. Dick moans in surprised appreciation, ignoring the mess of Jason’s face to kiss him as sincerely as he can.

They don’t say anything, Dick letting his own words trail off in favour of starting at Jason in between their magnetic kisses.

Finally, Jason seems to settle, shuffling so he is completely off of Dick.

Dick misses the weight instantly, but Jason doesn’t move too far. He tugs Dick closer, so now it’s Dick laying across Jason’s chest.

Dick sighs in tired appreciation, bringing the rest of his body close and wincing when his still wet briefs rub against Jason’s thigh.

Jason makes a face, “Fuck, those are probably ruined.”

Dick blinks at the unexpected sentence before it sinks in, huffing out a soft laugh, “It was your idea.”

Jason rolls his eyes, leaning up enough to grab at the waistband of the briefs and tugging. Dick gets the idea and together they throw the sodden underwear over the side of the bed.

Dick tugs at his shirt, drenched with sweat as well. Jason pouts but helps Dick out of it, mindful of Dick’s ribs.

Dick wonders if he’d get angry if Dick used it as a cloth to clean up the semen all over him, and decides he’d rather not test that theory. He chucks it over the bed as well and slides back to Jason, throwing an arm across his chest. God, when was the last time he just held Jason?

For good measure, he throws his leg over Jason’s thighs, curling in closer.

Jason grunts, “You’re like a fucking koala.”

Dick hums, eyes closing, “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

There is a pause, and Jason doesn’t say anything.

Dick feels the sweet call of sleep, but holds it back just for a moment longer.

“Thank you, Jay,” Dick says to Jason’s heart.

Jason’s arm tightens around him almost painfully. He seems to understand that Dick isn’t just talking about him taking care of Dick. That even if Jason hasn’t said it yet, some part of him has forgiven Dick and is willing to trust him.

Jason doesn’t say anything, but his legs part enough to trap Dick’s leg possessively, curling Dick in until he’s half on top of Jason’s chest.

“Do you want poutine for breakfast tomorrow?”

Dick laughs into Jason’s chest, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He shakes with it, reveling in Jason’s responding tightening to make sure Dick doesn’t fall off of him.

“Yeah, Jay. As long as you’re delivering it to me, I can sacrifice cereal for breakfast.”

He doesn’t see it, but he’s sure Jason is arching his brow when he says, “Deliver? Do I look like a man slave to you?”

Dick sleepily tilts his head until Jason’s swollen bicep is in range. He bites down, smirking at Jason’s yelp.

“Yeah, you do, baby,” Dick purrs in laughter.

Jason’s hand comes down to the nape of Dick’s neck, turning his head so that they are staring at each other.

Before Jason can say anything in indignation, Dick continues, “I know you’ll take care of me.”

That takes the wind right out of Jason’s sails. He looks down, eyes unreadable for a moment, before making eye contact with Dick again.

“I will.”

Dick smiles, satisfied in all the ways that matters. Jason thumbs his nape gently.

“Go to sleep, Dick.”

Dick nods, turning his face into Jason’s chest. He knows Jason doesn’t want to hear it, but Dick needs to say it.

He gently mouths, ‘I love you’ into Jason’s skin.

Dick thinks he got away with it until Jason tenses. Dick doesn’t move, content just to lay there. Jason has issues that Dick has to let be, and he knows when to let go.

He’s nearly asleep when he feels the same words being traced onto the small of his back.

Dick falls into his dreams with a smile. 


End file.
